


Homecoming

by sefa16



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/M, Gen, Judaism, M/M, Patrick being a good sport as usual, not really a relationship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26250163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sefa16/pseuds/sefa16
Summary: Alexis spots a Jewish star necklace at the mall; for some reason, she can't stop thinking about it.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Original Male Character, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 13
Kudos: 90





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was commissioned by a mutual on tumblr who requested a character study about Alexis rediscovering and exploring her connection to her Judaism. I had so much fun writing it! I worked really hard to capture the characters' voices, and it was a refreshing change to write about a Jewish character being Jewish. That being said, I don't want to imply that Alexis's Jewish experiences in this fic are in any way universal—they're largely based on my own.
> 
> Comments, etc are always appreciated; you can also find me on [tumblr](http://lesbeet.tumblr.com).

So, as usual, the whole thing was David’s fault.

Alexis hadn’t even wanted to go inside the jewelry store in the first place. It had kitschy, homemade-looking bracelets in the window—which, ew—but David had never been able to pass up a sale without at least looking first.

“Um, I think you have enough man jewelry already,” Alexis said as she followed him inside. 

“And I think you have enough tacky oversized sunglasses, but did I stop you from buying three different pairs at the Sunglass Hut outlet?”

Alexis huffed. “Nicole Richie wears oversized sunglasses too, David.”

David leaned over the counter to examine a set of rings through the glass. “Well, that’s great for Nicole Richie, but it doesn’t make them not tacky.”

“This whole store is tacky,” Alexis said.

But David wasn’t listening. He was waving at the only employee in the store, a prim-looking woman probably about Mom’s age. Her make-up wasn’t doing her any favors, though, so it was sort of hard to tell. 

Alexis moved through the tiny shop, looking over the assortment of necklaces, when she spotted one that made her pause: a six-pointed star pendant (14 karat gold, according to the placard) with a small diamond set into the center. Though it was beautiful in an understated sort of way, it wasn’t anything special. Except, Alexis was pretty sure she’d owned an almost identical necklace as a kid. 

She didn’t know what happened to it—most likely it would’ve gotten repossessed with everything else they’d owned from back then. It seemed like the sort of thing someone on Dad’s side of the family would’ve bought for her. She couldn’t remember _wearing_ a necklace with a Jewish Star on it, but that made sense since their family wasn’t exactly religious, and Mom wasn’t even Jewish. 

Alexis wondered if there were any temples nearby; were there enough other Jews in the area? Were there any other Jews at all?

It wasn’t like she would go if there were—she’d never cared much for the crowded room of people in stuffy clothes, or the old ladies who smelled like stale perfume and left lipstick smudges on her cheeks every single time they saw her—but it was weird they’d lived here this long and had never bothered to find out. Besides, some of the songs had been pretty.

“I’m done,” David said. “We can go now.” Alexis glanced up to find him standing in the doorway with a yellow bag in his hand. 

“One sec.” She raised her voice to get the woman’s attention. “Excuse me? How much is this?”

“I thought this place was tacky,” David said, coming over. When he saw what she was pointing at, he raised his eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

Alexis smiled as the woman approached. “I’m asking a question, David.”

The woman squinted and leaned over the glass. “Two hundred,” she said. “Would you like to see it?”

Alexis nodded, ignoring David and his stupid head movements while the woman unlocked the case. She laid the necklace on the counter, then glanced up as another customer called her over. “Excuse me a moment.”

David waited until she was out of earshot before turning back to Alexis. “You’re not actually getting that.”

“Why not? I had a Jewish Star necklace just like this when I was younger. I think it was a Bat Mitzvah gift, or something.”

“You mean a Star of David?”

“Um, I think it’s also called a Jewish Star.”

“Okay, well, you’ve never worn a Star of David in your life.”

“Okay? Maybe I want to start. What’s wrong with that?”

David’s eyebrows slid further up his forehead. “Aside from the fact that this necklace is two hundred dollars? And that we’re barely even Jewish?”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t stop being Jewish just because you don’t go to temple. It’s definitely, like, a genetics thing.”

“Oh, is it? I think we’re Scottish on Mom’s side—do you plan on taking up the bagpipes as well?”

Alexis made a face. “It’s one Jewish Star necklace, David. I’m not, like, moving to Jerusalem to join a convent.”

“Mm, okay.” David clasped his hands together and pursed his lips. “First—and again,” he said, sounding strained, “most Jewish people call it a Star of David. Second, convents are for nuns, who are very much not Jewish, and to be honest, I’m a little concerned you didn’t know that. And third, we hated doing Jewish things when we were kids.”

“Whatever,” Alexis snapped. She wasn’t sure why he was making it such an issue, or why it bothered her so much. “We also used to hate having, like...responsibilities, and now we both own our own companies, so I think it’s safe to say a lot’s changed since we were kids. Is it really so crazy that I might want to wear a Jewish Star necklace?”

“Okay, I don’t know what this is all about,” David said, waving his hands vaguely in Alexis’s direction, “but since you stopped me from almost buying that 400-dollar Neiman Marcus sweater online the other day, I feel obligated to return the favor and stop you from wasting a full week’s pay on a Star of David necklace you will literally never wear.”

The saleswoman returned before Alexis could respond. “How are we doing over here?” she asked with a tight smile.

David looked at Alexis expectantly.

She hesitated. Maybe David was right—they weren’t the same people they used to be, but that didn’t mean _everything_ had changed. She was probably just feeling a smidge lonely, which made the memory of endless hugging from strangers at their old synagogue seem nicer than it really had been. Most of the time she didn’t even like it when her family hugged her. And while she totally believed in the effectiveness of retail therapy, she wasn’t sure a necklace would be much help.

“Um, you know what?” she said to the saleswoman. “I think I’m actually okay for right now, but thank you.”

“Good call,” David said as they left the shop.

“Whatever.” Alexis shook herself, as though it would relieve the strange sensation of what felt like disappointment creeping into her gut. Maybe she was hungry. “I want fro-yo.”

“I thought we agreed on Cinnabon.” 

“Well, I want fro-yo. You can still go to Cinnabon.”

“And sit there by myself like some pathetic mallrat with zero sense of shame?”

“Mhm!” Alexis put on her sweetest smile. “Have fun!”

“I hate you,” David said, but he followed her to Menchie’s anyway.

  


* * *

  


When David dropped her off at the motel, Alexis hurried inside and dug through her purse for the little yellow bag from the jewelry store. 

The pendant glinted under the lamplight, lying neatly on its bed of foam with the chain tucked behind it. She moved to pull it out of its box, but hesitated. Two hundred bucks did seem kind of expensive, now that she thought about it, so it probably would be better if she only wore it on special occasions. And anyway, Mom and Dad would be confused if they saw it, and David would definitely give her a hard time—which was why she’d bought it in secret. 

For some reason, at the fro-yo place her thoughts had kept circling back to the necklace, her mind filling itself with fragments of Hebrew songs and half-remembered stories from the Torah. The sweet scent of her mixed berry yogurt had sparked a sudden memory of those little triangle-shaped cookies they used to eat during one of the holidays—she couldn’t remember which.

David always took forever to eat, so while he finished, she’d gone back for the necklace under the guise of running to the bathroom.

“Sweetheart? Is that you?” Dad called from the other room.

“Just a sec!”

With a sigh, Alexis closed the box and stuffed it into the top drawer of her nightstand. 

  


* * *

  


Apparently there was a synagogue in Elmdale. Temple Beth Am. 

Alexis had only Googled local synagogues out of curiosity. She hadn’t expected to find any, since she was pretty sure her family were the only Jews in the area, but Elmdale had a mall, she guessed, so maybe it made sense for them to have a synagogue, too. 

The website didn’t have a ton of photos, but the few it did have felt strangely familiar, even though Alexis had never been there. Beneath a picture of an empty sanctuary with beautiful stained-glass windows was a blurb that read, _Please join us for our weekly Kabbalat Shabbat service this Friday at 7pm! All are welcome!_

For the first time, the thought of going to synagogue filled Alexis with intrigue instead of dread. Friday night services weren’t that long, were they? It wouldn’t hurt to try it out.

Except, she had nobody to go with. David wouldn’t take her seriously—and even if he did, there was no way he’d want to go. The only other Jewish person Alexis knew here was Dad. But even though he’d probably be thrilled to take her, she couldn’t ask. She didn’t want to make it a whole _thing_ , because what if she didn’t like it? What if she got him all excited just to give up on this, too? He’d only just started being really, truly proud of her, and she didn’t want to ruin it.

Mom might have agreed just for the novelty of it, but—ew. And Alexis couldn’t go to Stevie or Twyla for something like this, because she was pretty sure they wouldn’t understand. 

But there was always Patrick. Easy-going, supportive Patrick, who’d decided to put up with _David_ for the rest of his life—and who, if Alexis was remembering right, was opening at the Apothecary today so David could get his eyebrows threaded.

Mind whirring, Alexis got dressed.

  


* * *

  


“Remind me again why you couldn’t ask David to take you?”

Alexis sighed, because they’d already been over this, like, forty thousand times. “Because he’d say no.”

“Right,” Patrick said, putting the car in park, “but I feel the need to remind you once again that I’m not even Jewish.”

“I told you, that’s allowed. A lot of the people at my Bat Mitzvah were—I don’t know, Catholic, or Methodist, or whatever. All those Christian ones that are, like, basically the same thing. No offense.” 

“Alexis.” Patrick undid his seatbelt and turned to her with the sort of patience that usually made Alexis approve of him, but now seemed a touch condescending. “Why are you so sure David would say no? And why did you tell him we’re watching _Bring It On_?”

“Because he hates _Bring It On_. He says it, like, trivializes the athletic skill cheerleading requires, or something. But just between us, I think it’s because he got cut on the first day of cheer tryouts his freshman year of high school, so he, like, _hates_ cheerleaders on principle.”

 _“_ Okay...but why did we have to lie?”

 _“_ Because he’ll think it’s stupid,” Alexis said. “Just—whatever. We’re already here, so can we just go inside?”

Patrick sighed and got out of the car, and Alexis followed suit.

The building was small, sort of plain and nondescript from the exterior. Immediately inside was a small lobby full of people lining up to enter the sanctuary. Two men stood at the open double-doors, handing each person a prayer book as they stepped inside. One had grey hair and a beard to match, and the other was...kind of gorgeous, actually. He had deep, tawny skin, dimples, and a head of adorable curls, and he addressed each person he spoke to with an easy warmth that almost reminded Alexis of Ted. 

“Okay,” Patrick whispered as they joined the back of the line, “I feel a little overdressed.”

This was a fair observation; Alexis hadn’t been entirely sure what to wear to the service herself, so when Patrick had asked, she’d told him to go with something semi-formal just to be safe. He’d chosen a navy suit she was pretty sure David had bought for him. Looking down at her own baby blue cocktail dress, she wondered if she’d maybe miscalculated. 

She’d decided not to wear the Jewish Star necklace. It hadn’t really gone with the dress, was all, so she’d left it, still unworn, hidden in its drawer.

Alexis shoved the thought away. “Well, that’s better than being under-dressed and having everyone think we’re, like, homeless, isn’t it?” 

“Um...I guess?” Patrick nodded to a table to their left, which held a large basket of _kippahs_. “Do I have to wear one of those?”

She thought about it. “Yes,” she decided, because she was pretty sure she remembered her non-Jewish guy friends wearing them at her Bat Mitzvah. 

She held their place in line while Patrick went to the table, fished out a _kippah_ made of some awful blue satin-y material, and self-consciously put it on his head. 

Looking around, she took a deep breath. Everyone seemed chipper and friendly, bidding each other a _good Shabbos_ and kissing each other on the cheek. Alexis almost wished she knew them.

Instead, she was convinced someone was going to tap her on the shoulder and ask her to leave. She had no idea why—it wasn’t like she wasn’t Jewish. She’d read from the Torah and everything. Still, she couldn’t help feeling like anyone in the room could look at her and know that she didn’t really belong here, that she’d grown up not caring about being Jewish. That she’d hated going to synagogue as a kid, hated sitting through long services in a language she couldn’t speak or understand.

Maybe coming here had been a mistake. Maybe—

“Excuse me?”

Alexis jumped and turned around. A small, older woman with way too much lipstick on smiled up at her.

“That dress is just gorgeous, dear.”

“Oh,” Alexis said, suddenly flustered. She gave a polite smile in return. “Um, thank you.”

She faced forward again and glanced around for Patrick, then realized he was still over by the table— _talking_ to some guy he almost definitely had never met before.

“Patrick,” she hissed. “Patrick!”

He looked up and nodded at her, then turned to the guy and shook his hand. Alexis could’ve sworn she heard him wish the man a good Shabbos before he stepped back in line.

“What?” Patrick said when she rolled her eyes. “I was just being friendly.”

She didn’t answer—they’d finally reached the front of the line. Patrick tried to move forward to take a prayer book from the cute guy with dimples, but Alexis casually stepped in front of him and put on her most dazzling smile. 

Cute Guy grinned back. “ _Shabbat shalom_ ,” he said, holding out a book.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it, then faltered. “Oh, I mean—yes. Um, _Shabbat shalom_.” 

He just kept smiling at her, looking a little too amused for Alexis’s liking. With a “hmph,” she stalked forward to where Patrick stood, right inside the entrance of the sanctuary. 

Even though she was miffed about Cute Guy laughing at her, she stopped short, blinking as she took in the room around her. 

The picture on the website hardly did it justice—while the outside of the building had been pretty boring to look at, the sanctuary was the opposite: grand yet tasteful, with stunning artwork all along the walls. Rooms just like this one had used to mean an hour or two of boredom, threatening David under her breath because he wouldn’t quit hogging the armrest, and sometimes literally falling asleep in her chair. But somehow it felt different now, like remembering something precious, even though Alexis never been in this room or met any of these people before. 

They grabbed a pair of aisle seats towards the back; the sanctuary was fairly crowded, but there were plenty of gaps, which meant fewer people to stare at Alexis and judge her for being there when she clearly didn’t fit in with the rest of the congregation.

She turned to Patrick, who was examining his prayer book with interest. 

“Hebrew goes right to left,” she said, grabbing it from his hands and flipping it over. 

“Huh, that’s cool.” He paused. “Wait, you guys don’t speak Hebrew, do you? I mean, I feel like I would know if David spoke another language...but with him, you never know.”

“You have to learn to read it so you can read from the Torah, but they don’t really teach you to speak it. Unless you’re, like, Orthodox or whatever.”

Patrick still looked impressed. He opened to a page in the middle of his book and pointed to a word at random. “So, you can read this?”

“Maybe when I was twelve,” she said, but peered at the word anyway, frowning in concentration. “Ah...so—soo…”

“ _Asoorim_?”

Alexis’s mouth fell open. “ _You_ can read Hebrew?”

Chuckling, Patrick pointed to the page on the left. “I was looking at the English part. It—hang on.” He glanced at his stupid Apple watch, then huffed a laugh. “No cell phones in here, right?” 

“Um, you can, but just on the DL. Otherwise people will yell at you.” She peeked at Patrick’s phone, which he now held discreetly in his lap. “Is that David?”

Patrick nodded and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything the strum of a guitar swept through the sanctuary. He leaned closer to Alexis. “Is it starting?”

“Shh!”

Up on the stage—Alexis knew there was a word for it, but she couldn’t remember what it was—stood two men. One stepped up to the podium, while the other, holding a guitar, moved to the side closer to Alexis and stepped forward. As he strummed a few bars, Alexis blinked in surprise—it was Cute Guy, the one who’d given her the prayer book. She swallowed, watching him curiously even as the congregation broke into song all around her.

_Bim, bam, bim-bim-bim bam..._

To Alexis’s further surprise, she actually knew the song. It made sense, she guessed; Judaism was super old. It probably didn’t change much.

It got even easier as the service continued. The more prayers they recited, the more songs they sang, the more Alexis remembered. It felt a little like looking through old baby pictures, except without Mom in the background, always staring directly into the camera like a crazy person. Plus, the rabbi basically told everyone what to do most of the time, so even Patrick knew when to stand up or sit down. 

“Please join us on page 122 for _L’cha Dodi_ ,” the rabbi said, his voice warm and comforting in the same way as most rabbis Alexis had encountered. “As a reminder, we will only be singing verses one, two, five, and nine.”

Patrick turned to Alexis, looking confused.

She spoke in a low tone underneath the flurry of turning pages. “If it’s the one I’m thinking of, it’s, like, super long, so we don’t do the whole thing.”

It _was_ , in fact,the one Alexis was thinking of. She hadn’t particularly loved the music growing up—partly because it hadn’t really felt like music, since most of the time nobody was playing any instruments—but now it struck something deep within her, like a second pulse. This one was easier to follow along with because the refrain was always the same: 

_L’cha dodi likrat kala p’nei Shabbat n’kabalah._

Curious, she glanced at the translation on the opposite page:

_Come, my friend, to meet the bride; let us welcome the Sabbath._

Just before the ninth verse, the congregants started to shift in their seats. Alexis remembered what to do even before the rabbi announced it.

All around them people got to their feet as the rabbi spoke into the microphone over the music, which had started to slow. “We rise and face the entrance as we welcome the Sabbath bride.” 

Patrick looked confused again, but followed along.

“It’s not a real bride. It’s, like, a metaphor,” Alexis explained, and he laughed.

The music and singing continued to slow, and it felt important. Profound, even, despite the fact that they weren’t really welcoming anyone inside.

Alexis found herself bowing without thinking about it, like the muscle memory had tucked itself inside her body all those years ago just for this moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Patrick rush to do the same. 

He leaned over as the congregation straightened up and launched into the final refrain, some clapping, and some even dancing. “Y’know,” he said, “I’m starting to think you brought me here just so there’d be at least one person who knows less than you.”

Alexis huffed as the rabbi asked them to be seated. 

She knew Patrick was joking, but the comment brought back the discomfort that had been slowly melting away. So she remembered a couple of songs—did that really mean she had a right to be here? Did being here really mean the same thing to her as it did to everyone else?

As the service continued, she couldn’t even take pride in the parts she remembered, because if this was so important, why was she just coming back to it now? There were plenty of kids in the room, some of them pretty young, and most seemed to know way more than Alexis. A few rows up, there was a little girl in a pink dress, clapping along and giggling at the man sitting next to her. She couldn’t have been more than six or seven, and yet this place, this service, these songs—they all belonged to the little girl more than they did Alexis. 

They reached the _Amidah_ , which Alexis only remembered because of all the choreography involved, stepping forward and back and bowing while Patrick tried to keep up. 

“We will now take a moment for personal, silent prayer,” the rabbi said into the microphone. “As you conclude, you may be seated.”

A hush swept through the sanctuary, save for the gentle, quiet strumming of a single guitar. Cute Guy’s eyes were closed while he played, and Alexis wondered if he was praying, too, up there in front of everyone. Looking around, she realized most of the other congregants had their eyes closed as well, many with their books clutched against their chests. 

Alexis took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

She had no idea where to start, or what to say; praying wasn’t something her family had ever taken seriously, even when they’d made a rare appearance or two at synagogue.

 _Are you there, God?_ she joked to herself, feeling stupid. _It’s me, Alexis._

But now what? Was she supposed to ask for something she wanted? She tried to think.

The guitar grew louder, as did the sounds of shuffling from the congregation. Alexis peeked her eyes open and saw that almost everyone else had sat down already. Feeling as though she’d failed some crucial test, she swallowed and did the same.

“I liked that part,” Patrick whispered.

“Shh!” was all Alexis could bring herself to say.

They reached a prayer called the Mourner’s _Kaddish_ , which she thought she maybe remembered from her childhood, but which now left her frozen and confused—most of the congregants had chosen to stay seated, but scattered throughout the sanctuary stood a number of people, many of them hugging their prayer books as tightly as they had during the silent prayer. 

It was easier to stay seated, she figured, gesturing for Patrick to do the same. The words sounded somewhat familiar, a rolling, hypnotic rhythm that might’ve lulled her into a state of calm if she’d had any idea when she was supposed to speak. It sounded like a memorized conversation, as though they were actors in a play and everyone but Alexis had been responsible enough to learn their lines. 

“ _Zichronam levracha_ ,” the rabbi said in the same soothing cadence as the prayer. “May their memories be for a blessing. And may the One who creates harmony on high bring peace to us, and to all Israel, to which we say...”

“Amen,” answered the congregation.

“Amen,” Alexis and Patrick echoed a second later. 

“And for our closing song, please join us in _Oseh Shalom_.”

Cute Guy began to play his guitar again, and the room exploded into song, bright and rejuvenating, especially after something so solemn. But though Alexis recognized the words, she didn’t know the melody. Everyone around her smiled and clapped, and suddenly she couldn’t remember why she’d come.

A few people near the door had started to leave, which meant they could, too.

“Let’s go,” she told Patrick, already hurrying out of her seat. The rabbi was calling something over the sea of voices, but Alexis didn’t stop to listen. She didn’t stop to wait for Patrick either—if he wanted to take his time, he could meet her at the car. 

She left her prayer book on the empty cart outside the sanctuary and brushed through the smattering of people who’d begun to trickle into the lobby, hugging and kissing each other’s cheeks all over again. Then she was out the door, breathing in the cool night air.

“Alexis!”

She was almost at the car by the time Patrick caught up. “What took you so long?”

“I forgot to take off the, y’know...” He gestured at the back of his head, then snapped his fingers and said, “Yarmulke! That’s what they’re called, right?”

Alexis nodded.

“Hey,” he said, frowning. “What happened back there? Why’d you run out so fast?”

“Oh...yeah, um, I just felt, like, really sick all of the sudden.”

“Oof, sorry. Are you good now, though?”

“I think so.”

Patrick’s expression was skeptical, but he unlocked the car and went around to the other side.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked once he was settled in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah,” Alexis lied. “Do you mind if I close my eyes, though? I know it’s kind of a long drive, but I’m feeling a little queasy.”

“Of course. Just let me know if I need to pull over, okay? I’d prefer not to get puke in my car if we can avoid it.”

  


* * *

  


On Sunday, Alexis stopped by the Apothecary again.

When she walked in, David’s lip curled. “Ugh. What are you doing here?”

“Um, that’s a super nice way to speak to your sister, David.”

“Okay, noted. But what are you doing here?”

Alexis headed for a display table near the back. “I need to get some moisturizer,” she called behind her.

“And by ‘get’ I assume you mean ‘purchase’, yes? As in, you’ll give me money in exchange for the expensive custom-made skincare products I sell in my store to make a living?”

A creaking noise came from behind the counter, and Alexis looked up to see Patrick walk in from the storeroom. “I didn’t realize it was your store,” he told David. “Does that mean I can leave?”

“No.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Is this going to develop into some sort of hostage situation?”

“Actually, I was about to run across the street to grab us lunch,” David said. “You know, for both of us. But go ahead, keep making jokes.”

After some more bickering, which Alexis privately found adorable, David finally left.

“Are you feeling better?” Patrick asked.

“Oh, yeah. It was probably just, like, cramps or something.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“What?” Alexis said. “It was.”

Patrick looked skeptical, but then a customer walked in and he had to go help her find the flavor of tea she wanted. While he taught her what “loose-leaf” meant and rang her up, Alexis tried to figure out how to explain herself.

“I don’t know,” she said when the customer left.

Patrick was turning away from the register, but he paused. “Did I...ask a question?”

“You were about to ask what actually happened Friday night, right?”

“Oh, yeah. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t—”

“It was just confusing,” she said.

“Confusing.”

She nodded. “It was like...going to your cousin’s family reunion, or something.”

“Uh...wouldn’t that be the same as going to your own family reunion?”

“Whatever. You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Alexis groaned in frustration. “Have you ever tried to do something as an adult that you haven’t done since you were a kid? It was sort of like that—like, the longer we were there, the more familiar it felt, but I just kept thinking about all the stuff I didn’t remember.”

“Well, you _haven’t_ gone since you were a kid, right? So it makes sense that you’re a little out of practice.”

“I guess. I don’t even know what I was trying to get out of going.”

“Maybe you’ll figure it out next time.”

When Alexis guiltily looked away, Patrick leaned forward against the counter and shook his head. 

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up.”

“I’m not giving up,” Alexis said, “I’m just...not going back.”

“I don’t know, you said this was important to you. I think you should give it another chance.”

“Will you come with?”

Patrick sighed. “Am I really the best person to bring? It feels like that might be kind of weird, going back. For me, I mean. Since, you know, I’m not Jewish.”

“Please, Patrick.”

“Are you going to make me lie to David again?”

“Last time, I promise.” She held up her little finger and put on her best puppy-dog eyes. “Pinky swear?”

Patrick studied her carefully, and she tried to give an encouraging smile, waving her pinky a little. “Fine. But you better come up with something fast.”

Before Alexis could ask what he meant, the bell above the door tinkled, and David walked in, carrying two take-out containers.

Alexis grinned, feeling smug. “Told you he’d bring you lunch.”

“I knew he would,” Patrick said, but he was watching David with a smirk.

David gave Alexis a look of exasperation. “You’re still here?”

“That’s so rude, David. Patrick and I were just trying to figure out which _Bring It On_ to watch this week.”

“Again?” David looked at Patrick.

“I mean, it’s—it’s your night to close here, anyway, and she asked, so…”

Glancing between them, David narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, in the interest of honesty, I’m not sure this little budding friendship is inspiring a particularly positive response in me at this juncture? So I’m gonna go eat my lunch in the back.”

Alexis waited for Patrick to go after him, then grabbed the jar of moisturizer and left.

  


* * *

  


They stayed for the whole service this time.

Alexis didn’t know what had changed, other than maybe the fact that she’d already been to the synagogue before and knew what to expect. Cute Guy handed out prayer books again, and when the service began, Alexis knew all the words to the opening song, even though it was different from the one they’d sung last time.

Patrick seemed about as clueless and before, but also as eager to simply observe and follow along. He did keep throwing Alexis these covert looks of concern when he thought she wasn’t looking, but she felt better this time. She’d come prepared for the silent prayer section, too—Google hadn’t been super helpful in the way of instructions, but she’d read enough to understand that there wasn’t really a right way to do it. She could just close her eyes and take in the sounds around her, the whisper of turning pages, the fidgeting children and congregants shifting in their seats, and, underneath it all, the low through-line of the guitar. 

For maybe the first time in her life, Alexis thought she understood what it meant for something to feel holy. It made part of her wish she’d decided to wear the Jewish Star necklace after all.

They stayed in the sanctuary through the final song this time, which meant they got to hear the rabbi’s closing remarks and invitation to join them in the social hall for something called _oneg_ , which apparently just meant dessert. Alexis wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay, but Patrick insisted.

“Cookies, Alexis. He said there are cookies.”

She rolled her eyes and followed him into a large room full of tables, scattered with people holding small plates of pastries and fruit. She was pretty sure Patrick was just trying to get her to mingle a little—which shouldn’t have been so difficult, considering how easily Alexis got along with people, especially ones who didn’t know her—but she suddenly felt like she’d left her social skills back in Schitt’s Creek, and didn’t know how to just...approach someone.

Patrick had abandoned her to grab a plate of food, so when someone tapped Alexis’s shoulder, she braced herself and turned around slowly, expecting another kindly old woman. 

Cute Guy looked down at her and grinned. His eyes, Alexis noticed, were the color of raw honey. “You’re a new member, right? I’m Jeremy.” He held out his hand.

“Oh, um...” Alexis shook it. “Alexis. But I’m not exactly a ‘member’ per say? I’m kind of here for, like, a sample.” Jeremy looked like he was waiting for more, and she cleared her throat. “My family moved here recently,” she explained, which wasn’t really a _lie_. “Well, to Schitt’s Creek, actually. But this was the closest synagogue.”

“Oh, cool. I used to have a few friends who lived there. How long ago did guys move?”

“Um.” Alexis licked her lips. “Like...five years ago? Give or take.”

Jeremy raised a brow, but his smile still didn’t fade. “What made you want to come tonight?”

“Well,” she said, trying to think of how to explain it—and whether she even wanted to. “I went to Hebrew school and stuff as a kid, and I had a Bat Mitzvah, but my family is kind of...we didn’t really keep up with, you know, Jewish stuff outside of that. And I guess I was just—I don’t know, looking to reconnect? I wanted to see if going to services was like I remembered.”

“And was it?”

Before Alexis could answer, Patrick appeared, holding a small paper plate stacked with desserts.

She stared at him. “Oh my god. You’re almost as bad as David.”

“I resent that,” he said through a mouthful of cookie. “But honestly, I might consider converting if it means I get these every week.”

“Patrick, ugh.” Alexis looked at Jeremy, again feeling the need to clarify. “He’s not Jewish, he’s with me,” she said, then shook her head. “I mean, not, like, _with me_ -with me. He drove me here. Speaking of,” she added, turning back to Patrick, “why don’t you go get the car, and I’ll meet you out front?” 

Patrick raised his eyebrows at her as he took a sip of lemonade, then smacked his lips and tossed the plastic cup into a nearby trash can.

“I’m her brother-in-law, by the way,” he told Jeremy. “Not her chauffeur. But sure, I guess I’ll go get the car.”

They shook hands, and Patrick walked out, giving Alexis a look she didn’t care to interpret.

A pair of older women came over to compliment Alexis’s dress after all, but it seemed like they mostly just wanted to gush about how wonderful Jeremy had been during the service (”And such a gorgeous face!”). After a minute Alexis started to creep towards the door, but Jeremy stopped her.

“Hang on,” he said, “I’ll walk you out.”

The social hall sat just beyond the lobby, so it wasn’t like Alexis was going to get lost, but she let him accompany her anyway.

Patrick was waiting in the circular drive in front of the building, but when she made to open the front door, Jeremy stopped her again.

“Wait,” he said. “You didn’t answer my question before.”

“Which one?”

“If the service was like the ones you remembered.”

“Oh.” Alexis thought about it, even though she didn’t really have to. “Not really. It was pretty great, actually.”

“So...can I assume I’ll see you here next week?”

Alexis used both hands to smooth down her hair. “Um, that depends. Will you be playing guitar?”

“I will.”

She pretended to think again. “I should be able to make it.”

“Good,” Jeremy said. His smile this time was sweet, almost shy, and it made Alexis’s heart jump. “I should go back in—my dad’s probably looking for me. _Shabbat shalom_ , Alexis.”

Alexis didn’t realize she was still smiling until she buckled her seatbelt and looked up to see Patrick raising his eyebrows again. 

“What?”

“Did you get his number?”

Alexis grimaced. “Ew, Patrick. Don’t be weird.”

“Why ‘ew?’ What was wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. That’s just, like, not why we came.” She hummed. “He did ask if I’d be there next week, though.”

Patrick’s amusement seemed to fade. “Yeah...about that,” he said as he began to drive. “I don’t think I can come with you anymore.”

Alexis frowned. “Because of Jeremy?”

“No, no, just...it’s not really my place, you know? And I feel really weird about keeping it from David.”

“Okay...but you’re allowed to be there. And it’s not like we’re doing anything bad.”

“I know,” he said, sounding apologetic, “but he’s my husband. I don’t like to keep things from him—and I’m awful at it. You know how much it hurts him when he feels excluded. I think he’d be upset even if we _were_ just watching movies.”

“But that’s his problem, not ours.”

“His problems are my problems, too, Alexis. And he’s your brother.”

“But—”

“I really think you should just tell him the truth. It’ll be fine.”

“No,” Alexis said immediately. “He won’t get it. He’ll just—he’ll ruin it, and I’m finally...” She trailed off, unsure how to put it into words Patrick would understand. Maybe he’d never be able to. 

Patrick sighed. “Look, I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to, but I don’t feel comfortable lying to him, so I don’t think I can come with you again. And I don’t think you need me anymore, anyway. You’ve already gone twice, and now you even know someone there.”

“Right,” Alexis said softly, turning to the window so her face wouldn’t give her away. “No, yeah, that makes sense.”

  


* * *

  


The following Friday evening, David and Patrick had a movie night of their own. Patrick delivered the news with a grimace of apology, and while Alexis had been secretly hoping he would change his mind about the whole thing, she wasn’t really surprised.

The problem was that she couldn’t go alone. She couldn’t. 

She didn’t understand why—Alexis didn’t have the issues David did with diving into uncomfortable situations and socializing with a building full of strangers. She’d been through countless wild and terrifying experiences from a ridiculously young age, so it made no sense for this sudden bout of anxiety to prevent her from doing what she wanted.

And yet, she spent the night alone in her room in the motel, trying (and failing) to take her mind off it. 

Maybe it was that it would’ve felt like she was playing a role, that of someone who had a real connection with her community, who hadn’t given up on her Jewishness. It felt disingenuous, like she would be scamming the other congregants—not to mention Jeremy—by showing up alone, using the service as some kind of weird excuse for human connection. And wasn’t that sad? Alexis Rose, whose phone contacts served as a veritable who’s-who of the rich and famous, whose socially-anxious older brother was suddenly married to a man who loved him more than anything, needed to resort to singing songs in a language she didn’t speak, standing a room full of strangers and calling it “religion.”

No, she decided. She was a better person now, and she’d worked hard for that. She didn’t use people anymore—especially not people who’d been so kind and welcoming because they hadn’t known any better.

So Alexis, newly unselfish, did a face mask, painted her nails, and went to bed early, all by herself.

  


* * *

  


Everyone on the internet thought she should speak with a rabbi. 

Alexis hadn’t posted a question or anything, but an hour or so of Googling revealed that “go ask a rabbi” had more or less been the cure-all for Jewish problems since rabbis had become a thing in the first place. And she’d only been Googling because Patrick had looked so disappointed when she’d told him over the weekend that she’d skipped the service.

“It just seems like you really wanted to do this,” he’d said. “I’d hate to see you give up on it.”

“It’s whatever,” she’d told him. And then David had returned from the bathroom, so they’d dropped the subject.

But it wasn’t whatever. And it _was_ something she really wanted, even if she couldn’t articulate why. So she’d decided to do something about it, even if she had to do it alone.

Since the closest rabbi was the one from Beth Am, Alexis had gathered her courage and driven herself there. Now she sat in the parking lot, trying to convince herself to go inside.

Did people still go to rabbis for help, even? Was she allowed, since she didn’t belong to the congregation? Would anyone even care about the crisis of faith of a spoiled girl in her late 20’s—one who barely understood what she was doing there?

David would tell her she was being stupid. Mom would insist she walk right into the building and demand a conversation. Dad would...well, she wasn’t sure what Dad would say. Something unhelpful, probably.

Alexis took a deep breath and went inside.

The lobby was empty—unsurprising, since it was one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. She crept down the nearest hallway, reading the signs posted next to each of the doors, and knocked when she found the rabbi’s office. Nobody answered. It was a 40-minute drive back, so she figured she might as well wait around for a bit, just in case he’d merely stepped out and would return soon.

“Alexis?”

She jumped.

“Jeremy!” Alexis’s voice came out way too loud and high-pitched as he walked towards her from the other end of the hallway. “Hey!”

“If you’re looking for Rabbi Baden, he probably won’t be back for a few hours. He’s at the dentist getting a crown put in.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s very, um...specific. Why do you know that?”

Jeremy grinned. “He’s my dad.”

“Your dad?” Alexis pictured the rabbi, who she was pretty sure was much...paler than Jeremy. She tried to hide her surprise, but it must have shown anyway.

“It’s okay,” he said. “People are usually pretty shocked when they find out. Most of them ask if I’m adopted.”

“Ugh,” she said, pretending she hadn’t just wondered the same thing—though it wasn’t like she would’ve _asked_. “That’s so rude.”

“Yeah, people around here aren’t exactly used to multi-racial families, especially in a synagogue. My mom is Black, so everyone automatically assumes she’s a convert.”

“Oh, I’m half-and-half, too, so I totally get it,” Alexis said. “My dad is Jewish, but my mom isn’t. Although, I guess I didn’t realize a rabbi would be allowed to marry someone who’s not Jewish.”

Jeremy’s smile was patient, but a little worn. “My mom’s Jewish, too.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright,” he said, waving a hand. “Like I said, I’m used to it. Not a lot of Jews of color around here. My mom was actually born in Ethiopia, and she met my dad in—oh.” He blinked. “My dad. You were waiting for him?”

“Um...yes,” Alexis said. “But it’s fine. I can come back.”

“Is it something I might be able to help you with?”

“Oh, I don’t know...”

“We missed you on Friday, by the way. I kept an eye out for you.”

“Oh,” she said again. “That’s actually...sort of what I wanted to talk about. With your dad, I mean.”

“Well, I’m no rabbi, but if you’re comfortable talking about it with me, maybe I can help?”

Alexis hesitated, leaning her head back against the wall and exhaling slowly. It was stupid to be so nervous; Jeremy had been nothing but sweet, and she had no reason to think he would judge her.

So she told him about the necklace in the drawer of her nightstand, about dragging Patrick to Shabbat services because she’d been too afraid to go alone, about the few minutes of deep, almost spiritual connection she’d felt during those two services, before her anxieties and doubts had trickled back in.

“And it’s just like...my family didn’t used to be close, and now we are. And it kind of feels like I shouldn’t be...looking for other connections, or communities, or whatever? Because I was never, like, religious or anything, and I don’t know why I want to do this all of the sudden.” Alexis dropped her gaze to the floor. “I don’t even know why I’m here. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Jeremy said immediately, his voice gentle as he nudged her foot with his toe so she’d look up again. “It’s not stupid at all. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting a community outside of your family, Alexis. That’s exactly why places like this exist, and have existed for literally thousands of years.”

“I guess.” She shrugged, feeling self-conscious. “But it feels weird to just, like...barge in.”

“You’re not barging in. If you’re Jewish, then this community is yours to be a part of. That’s one of the things I love most about Judaism—that you can go anywhere in the world and find something familiar, even if the traditions are different. The _Shema_ is the _Shema_ , no matter where you go.”

“And that’s so great,” she said with sincerity, because maybe knowing that would’ve helped her back in her globe-trotting days. “But what if you haven’t said the _Shema_ since your Bat Mitzvah?”

“Then you’d be one of many people who lost touch with their Judaism and chose to return to it. There’s nothing wrong with that. Even my dad was pre-med in college.”

“Oh,” Alexis said, trying to process that. If a rabbi could do it, then she could do it, too...right? “But what if I don’t want to, like...keep kosher and everything? It feels—I don’t know. Like I’m not doing it for the right reasons.”

It felt like a shameful thing to admit, but Jeremy didn’t appear to be judging her for it. “And what are the right reasons?”

She paused. “I don’t know,” she said. “Like...for G-d, I guess?”

To Alexis’s surprise, he waved a dismissive hand again. “Alexis, a ton of Jews don’t believe in G-d at all. I’m not even sure I do. I don’t really come here to be with G-d, or to pray alone in my head. I come here to be a part of this community. The way I see it, all the rituals and traditions are just concrete ways to stay engaged with each other.”

“Huh. I guess I never really thought of it like that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of people who would disagree with me. But I don’t know, I guess I just don’t think anybody else should get to decide how to be Jewish for you.”

“Okay, yeah.” She nodded, giving him a tentative smile. “Yeah, that makes sense. So I won’t be, like, a bad Jew if I only do some things, but not others? Because honestly, I really don’t think I could do the whole ‘no electronics on Shabbat’ thing. Did you know that even includes cell phones?”

Jeremy laughed, the sound bright and resonant. “I did, as a matter of fact. But no, that wouldn’t mean you’re a bad Jew. That’s what I’m getting at—there’s not really a wrong way to be Jewish.” 

“Ugh, I wish you could come talk to my brother, then. He’s being so obnoxious about this whole thing.”

“What do you mean?”

She told him what David said in the jewelry store, and why she hadn’t talked to him about coming to services.

“It’s not even that I want him to do this with me,” she said. “I mean, I’d love it if he came with, but it’s totally fine if he doesn’t want to. I just wish he wouldn’t give mea hard time about it.”

Jeremy tilted his head. “I think, if he really loves you—and it sounds like he does—he’ll just be happy that you’re happy, and he’ll support you.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I won’t pretend to know your family, but he might surprise you. Who knows—he might even be willing to try coming to a service himself if you ask him.”

“I doubt it,” she said. “But he might be cool about me doing it if I tell him why it’s so important to me.”

“Good. I hope so.” Jeremy spread his hands in question. “Did that help at least a little?”

“It really did, actually.” She gestured at the door to the office and waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe you should think about being a rabbi.”

“Yeah...no thanks. This is more of a side gig while I finish law school. Not really something I’d want to do as a career.”

They talked about this new development for a few more minutes, then Jeremy glanced at his watch and grimaced. 

“Shit, I’m teaching a songleading workshop in ten minutes. I should go.” He pointed a finger at her as he hurried backwards down the hall. “Will I see you Friday night?”

“I think so,” she said, raising her voice so he could hear. “I don’t want to, like, promise, or anything. But I’ll try.”

She could see his wide grin from where she was standing. “I really hope you come,” he said, then waved and ducked into another hallway.

  


* * *

  


Alexis had planned to tell everyone on Friday, so she’d have time to figure out exactly what she wanted to say. But Wednesday evening Dad insisted they have dinner as a family, and once Twyla took away their empty plates, Alexis found herself clearing her throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Did you want to say something?” David asked when a few seconds had passed and she’d yet to speak.

“Yes, David.” Alexis smoothed down her hair. “So, um, here’s the thing: I’ve been going to Shabbat services at the synagogue in Elmdale, and I want you guys to come with me this Friday.”

Dad sort of snorted, which became a cough when Alexis turned to him in offense. 

“Wait a minute,” he said, brow furrowing. “You’re serious?”

“I know it’s kind of, like, out of character, but I actually like it a lot, and it’s been really meaningful for me.”

Another beat of silence. Now David was squinting at her with his face all screwed up.

Alexis looked at him. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “I’m just wondering when exactly you attended these Shabbat services?”

“Um, Shabbat starts on Friday night, David. That’s, like, Judaism 101.”

“Right, mhm.” David pursed his lips. “Except, you and Patrick recently spent two Friday nights watching movies together without me. So, again, I’m just wondering—”

“Fine,” Alexis said. “Don’t be mad, but I made Patrick come with me.”

David stared at her. “Patrick,” he repeated. “As in, my husband Patrick. As in, my husband Patrick, who, as far as I’m aware, is not even a tiny bit Jewish. That Patrick?”

“Oh, David, don’t be so old-fashioned,” Mom said, waving a hand. “I accompanied your father to your Bar Mitzvah, and to Alexis’s Bat Mitzvah, and no one took issue with it in the slightest. They could have said, ‘Forgive us, Mrs. Rose, but your blonde hair and azure eyes promulgate your Aryan pedigree, and we simply cannot allow you to besmirch these hallowed halls of our wrongfully-persecuted forefathers.’ To which I might’ve replied that I, too, have known the perils of persecution, and thus—” 

“Honey,” Dad said, putting a hand on top of hers.

Mom sighed. “But alas, they bid me entry, awarding me the privilege of seeing my only children chanting in tongues before hundreds of devoted worshippers.”

“Uh-huh,” David said. “So, we weren’t chanting in tongues, it was just Hebrew. And you understand this is nothing like that, right?”

“Okay, okay, stop.” Alexis waited for them to look at her. “Listen—David, I’m sorry I made Patrick lie to you. He didn’t want to, and he was, like, super uncomfortable about it, which is why we didn’t go this Friday. He was just doing me a favor.”

For a second it looked like David was going to argue, but he just exhaled hard from his nose. “It’s fine, I guess.”

“So...will you come with me Friday?” Alexis looked at each of them in turn.

“Sweetheart,” Dad said, and Alexis’s heart sank. “I’m thrilled you’re reconnecting with this side of your heritage. And I would love to, I really would, but your mother and I have a meeting in New York this Friday. Another time, though, I promise. How about next week?”

“Okay,” she said. “David?”

He was squinting at her again; this time it seemed to be more in contemplation than suspicion. “I just don’t understand what you’re getting out of this.”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Alexis said, trying to think. “This is going to sound super cliche, but I guess it’s nice to be, like, a part of something? It’s like…a built-in community to make you feel at home anywhere in the world.”

Now David looked caught off guard. “So you’re actually serious about this.”

“Yes, I’m actually serious about this. And I’m not saying _you_ have to get serious about it, or that you have to come with me all the time. But it would really mean a lot to me if you would come this week.”

“Ugh.” David rolled his eyes. “Fine. But I get to wear whatever I want, and you’re not going to say a word unless it’s an actual, genuine compliment.”

“Deal,” Alexis said, and tried to hide her grin. 

  


* * *

  


“How long is this supposed to go, again?”

“Like, an hour tops, David.” Alexis rolled her eyes as they entered the building. “You’ve had manicures longer than that.”

“I feel like people are staring at me.”

“Literally no one is staring at you. What do I keep saying? Nobody—”

“Cares,” David finished. “Yeah, whatever.” He sniffed. “They’ve probably just never seen a nice Jewish boy with impeccable taste before.”

When they joined the line for prayer books, Alexis poked her head around so she could see up to the front. Jeremy was there, looking gorgeous as ever.

“Alexis,” he said with a grin when they reached the front of the line. “You came.”

“Yup,” Alexis said, purposely not looking at David. “This is my brother.”

David seemed reluctantly impressed. He shot Alexis a suggestive glance and held out his hand. “David Rose,” he said. “Very excited to be here.”

“Jeremy. It’s nice to meet you,” he said. “And I know it means a lot to Alexis that you’re here with her.” He turned to Alexis, oblivious to the distaste creeping into David’s expression. “I’ve gotta keep the line going, but I’ll find you after, okay?”

She tried not to sound flustered. “Um, yeah. Okay.”

David leaned in as they entered the sanctuary. “Well _now_ I understand why you want to come here.” 

Alexis rolled her eyes. “Shut up, David.”

They found a pair of seats towards the middle of the room and sat down, still bickering.

“Oh,” David said quietly when Jeremy stepped up on the _bimah_ a few minutes later with his guitar. “You know, if you’d told me there’d be a beautiful man playing guitar all night, I’d have agreed to come a lot sooner.”

“Shut up,” Alexis said again.

“I’m just saying.”

She turned to him. “Seriously. That’s not why I wanted to come.”

“I know,” he said, his lips twisting like he was trying not to smile. “And I’m not sure this is my thing, so to speak, but I’m happy you found this. Really.”

Sometimes when David said things like that it was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic; for once, though, Alexis didn’t care. 

Squeezing the Jewish Star pendant hanging at her throat, she smiled, and the congregation began to sing.


End file.
